Today is one of the market days in our neighborhood. They are on Sundays and Wednesdays. Seeing as tomorrow everything will be closed I thought the kids and I should head out and pick up a few things. I feel like my main job here in Paris is the acquiring of food. Do we have enough? Don't get to much, we don't have room. When do they close? When do they open? This is just the start...let's not talk about actually getting what you want. Because with my French you can never tell. So, the market by myself with two kids. Actually, not as bad as I thought. "The Market", let's call it what it is...full contact sport. This is an outdoor market under the train tracks. So, it is covered from the never ending rain showers, but let's face it, it is not Target with nice wide isles.
So, as I'm walking in the isle this man is announcing something loudly and we just continue on. I do not smile, because that is very not Parisian. As we pass in English he says, "say Thank You"...okay, what the heck? Finally many Parisians smiling...only to find it is at my expense...o'well, take what you can get.
We travel on and start the sport. As we are shopping for anything that I can possibly pronounce this woman runs over my toe and continues on. No smile, sorry, nope, none of that. I laugh...what are you going to do. As I am mutilating the French language trying to get some cheese, the lady, in the most perfect English says, "Do you want three pieces or enough for three people?" I even practiced before leaving the house. She was from the states. So we have our bag filled and it is time to head out. The stroller is actually a good piece of equipment. Some think they can out run it, but they find themselves tripped as they are trying to hurry around me, if I so decide to step it up a bit. Don't be fooled the elderly are not afraid either. They will stand their ground or just try to move you over. On our way out, we encounter the "funny guy". Who sees me coming and starts smiling and grabs a lady. Then proceeds to start speaking in French...let me see...nope...I still don't get it. Then in English says, "this is my wife". Why? Then he touches my hair and says "tres bon, tres bon" (I got the straightener to work), okay I get that. Thanks.
Back to those crazy kids. Jaylee is watching cartoons and when she speaks "French" it is hilarious. She sounds like she has drank milk all day and the back of her throat is filled with phlegm...she will do just fine. She also says, that Mickey Mouse does not speak French in Texas.
After the market, we stopped by the bakery, for my new addiction. Since my last eclair I cannot stop thinking about them. I even got Jaylee something pink, so that she wouldn't want any of mine. After tasting hers she says, "are you going to eat all of that?" Yes. "How about you share with sister?" No thanks. "You are supposed to share." Okay...I have a backup that she doesn't know about. As we are eating our sweet treats, she asks, "does me ma know what an eclair is?" Even in France I cannot escape my mother's concern. "Does me ma know what a croissant is?" You have got to be kidding me. "Does me ma know about that ice cream we get everyday at that "merci" place?" Seriously. I don't even know what she is talking about. Jaylee is now channeling my mother in Vegas. The family joke with my mom comes from a party at my sister Patty's when I was in college. I had put on a few pounds and Anita and I are looking the dessert table over. For Anita this is a quick look, she is as tiny as a bird. However, for myself this was an invitation. I chose a piece of cake and from behind me I hear, "are sure you want a piece that big??" I'm sure. Mom you know I love you. I know I can say these things, because she will still love me. Rice family watch out your turn is coming...I hear Justin is feeding my dog a burger a day.
Back to Jaylee, she is still referring to herself as Sister. Thank you Farrah and Nanny. If she is not calling herself Sister she is telling people at the park her name is Hadliegh. Of course this is after I've told them her name is Jaylee. I look like some crazy woman who kidnapped her and then moved to Paris and gave her a new name.
Sir Aidan is doing better today. He has a touch of a stomach bug, so we didn't get much sleep last night. Let me rephrase that. Pretty got some sleep. Mom did not. He says he is going to start his own blog in self defense. Let me save you a read. I went to work today, worked, ate some lunch, drank some coffee...worked...rode the metro with my ipod...came home to the best wife around. Viola Brandon's blog.
Bonne journee...I'm writing during the day today.